


A Change Is Gonna Come

by trylonandperisphere



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, Historical References, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trylonandperisphere/pseuds/trylonandperisphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Doctor Delphine Cormier meets activist Cosima Niehaus during the civil rights era, she has no idea what a long, strange trip she's about to embark on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This story was prompted by glynnbearboo and prolethean's Cophine throught the ages prompt, LGBT Pride month in the U.S., and the documentary Screaming Queens: The Riot at Compton's Cafeteria. It was beta'd by my cat, who insists on lying on anything I write.  
> More chapters to come. Please comment if you are moved to do so and let me know what you think.

 

San Francisco, Summer, 1966.

 

> _J'ai vu tous les films et j'ai tous les disques/D'Amérique  
>  Mais ça ne suffit pas il faut que je voie/L'Amérique_
> 
> _Et comme ce sera trop grand pour mes yeux/L'Amérique  
>  J'irai avec toi découvrir à deux/L'Amérique_
> 
> \- France Gall, "L'Amérique," 1965
> 
>  

This was not the first picket line Delphine Cormier had seen. Since moving to San Francisco from Paris, it seemed as though she stumbled upon or heard about a protest, political gathering, performance or "happening" every other day. In some ways, it was very exciting. It gave her a taste of the city she had been hoping to belong in, a vicarious energy when she had felt so alone and the hours trapped inside had been so long. But this one was a problem, because it was the nurses who were striking, and they were in front of her hospital.

She stood, unsure, not knowing what to do. She knew the nurses had been unhappy. Some of them had actually felt comfortable enough around her after the past months to let their feelings show, to mutter things under their breath without thinking she'd report them to her superiors. Delphine liked to think it was because she tried to be nice to them, respectful, but it was just as likely it had been because she was the only female doctor in the department. Perhaps they had seen her chafe at being belittled and condescended to, as well, although she usually tried to stay cool in such moments. Of course, there were those who were not so welcoming, condemning their own gender by assuming no female could be equivalent to the male doctors, the little gods of the hospital. But Delphine kept her eyes open to their moods, too. She was smart and knew how to keep on her toes. One had to be, as a woman in a new position, in a new country, who wanted to do her best, working with the best in her field.

But now, she was at a loss.  _They have been treated unfairly, they have a right to better,_  she thought,  _but surely we must run the hospital. We must care for the patients. How are we to aid them if we have no assistance — if we can't even get in?_  The way Delphine had been raised, there were two things you didn't question: a doctor's duty to treat, heal and protect those in need, and the right of human beings to be treated fairly, even those at the lowest rungs of society — especially them. This was one reason she had come to this city, which seemed to revel in a sort of freedom of mores of class she had found stifling in Paris. So, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, chewing on her bottom lip. To cross the picket line or not to cross? What to do?

One of the nurses she knew, worked with and who had even chatted and laughed with her a bit, Julia was her name, caught Delphine's eye and held it. She was across the street, but Delphine could see her lips compress into a line from there, and a subtle shake of her head. Delphine took a step back almost without knowing, nodded, and turned around.

She walked towards the nearest telephone booth she knew of, oblivious to the early sunshine, rehearsing what to say to Dr. Leekie when she reached him. What would he expect her to do? She could already feel the humiliation that Leekie was so capable of doling out with a mere twist of his voice or words. Of course, however, when she reached the telephone booth on the corner, someone was using it.

She was a small girl, no, a small  _woman,_  with a youthful face, long, dark hair piled loosely at the back of her head, and plastic glasses. She was pacing, as much as one could at a phone booth, one ear to the handpiece and the other to her forehead. Delphine took her in with a glance: loose, brightly patterned cotton shirt, dungarees, sandals, multiple bracelets and a large leather shoulder bag, embossed and painted with leaves and flowers, stuffed with sheaves of many-coloured papers that were trying to spill out _._

_Is this one of, what they call, a hippie?_  Delphine thought. She remembered one of the residents she had met recently at the hospital, as a young man was wheeled into the emergency room.

"Another longhair," the resident had said, contempt in his eyes. "These hippies are a problem. So many drug overdoses, so many…" he glanced sideways at Delphine appraisingly, "venereal diseases. They fill up the clinic and they're everywhere. Dropped out of school, don't want to get jobs  _—_ it's like they think the city owes them something. Of course, we have to treat them," he shrugged, "but I try to avoid it. Who wants to get dirty, or head lice? And don't think some of them aren't draft dodgers," he finished, leaning toward her for emphasis. Delphine said nothing, but  _I don't mind people not wanting to fight in war,_  she thought.

The woman in the phone booth appeared sober and clean, just a little loose around the edges. She could be older than the average hippie, too, though it was hard to tell. Delphine realized she had approached to within hearing range, and the woman was talking.

"Yeah, I get that," she was saying, "I just wish we could get a more diverse participation."

Delphine watched, not meaning to eavesdrop, but somehow compelled. The woman paced as far as the phone cord would allow. She seemed to give off an intense energy of her own, a version of the excitement of the city distilled into human form.

"Surprised? Well, I guess I shouldn't be. I mean, I know what's been going down in Washington, but it just seems like they could…" The young woman gesticulated with her free hand as if she could convey her meaning to the person on the other end of the line if she moved emphatically enough. She stopped pacing and sighed, crossed her arm under her opposite elbow. "Yeah, I know, big words, little steps. We've just gotta keep pushing it."

As if just sensing her presence, the woman raised her eyes to look at Delphine. With a raise of her eyebrows, she conveyed an apology, holding up one finger.

"Okay, I'll try at Berkeley. And listen, if the ladies of the D.O.B. call, tell them I'll get back to them this week. I think they're still annoyed with me after our last conversation." She let out a short bark of a laugh. "I've got to go now. There's someone waiting for the phone." Her eyes ran down Delphine's frame, taking in the white material peeking out from under her coat. Delphine suddenly felt the compulsion to blush, although she was doing nothing wrong.

"Someone in a doctor's coat," the shorter woman continued, a small smile playing around her lips, "could be important." She laughed again, briefly, said "goodbye," and hung up.

"Sorry about that," she offered Delphine, slipping out of the phone booth, but before she could take more than a step, the payphone rang.

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry about… that, too," she apologized, raising an index finger again and backing up to the phone. "One minute," she said, picking up the receiver again.

Delphine sighed, slightly blowing her cheeks out. She shaded her eyes from the sun with one hand and looked around at the surrounding corners. Nope, no other phone booths there. Should she move on? How far should she go? She expected Dr. Leekie was very displeased that she wasn't in, yet.

"Listen, I know you like them, but Jefferson Airplane were really tight at the last show at the Fillmore…" the shorter woman was saying into the phone now, again gesticulating. "Well, yeah, if you think more kids would show up that way. I mean, they've changed. Yeah, I love that blues vocals thing… I can try, but I can't promise anything. No shit, last time I saw Janis she was  _really_  sloppy…"

Delphine found herself watching the woman on the phone with interest. Despite the unnecessary profanity, her conversation did sound intriguing,  _assurément._   _Oh, but maybe I should mind my business,_  Delphine chastised herself, and quickly looked away.

"Well, maybe, alright, then," the woman acknowledged into the phone. Then, after a pause, "I did not! You know I don't go for that kind of… situation." She glanced quickly up at Delphine again, her expression amused, and then flustered, a bit guarded.

"Look, you just finish copyediting the letters and I'll handle the leafleting, okay? And don't go look at that wig, again. It's all wrong for your coloring." A quick grin parted her lips, her tongue poking between decidedly carnivorous-looking teeth. Delphine caught herself watching, again.

"Okay. Later, man," the woman finished, hanging up again. She gave a smiling nod to Delphine as she moved away from the phone booth, her arm spreading to offer her place.

"Sorry, again," she offered, and stepped away. Delphine paused a moment, strangely a little thrown off, then dipped her head and picked up the receiver. She felt the woman moving away behind her, but only so far. Glancing behind herself, she could see the woman leaning against the wall surrounding the park, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Delphine cleared her throat as the line rang.

She was glad she had change in her purse, because getting through to Dr. Leekie took a few minutes. No doubt the phones were as overloaded as he was with the current mess. Eventually, his secretary put her through, and he started right in as though already in the middle of a conversation.

"Yes, Delphine, I expect you're calling about the nurses," his voice came through in a rush, clearly irritated.  _Oh, no,_  Delphine thought.

"Dr. Leekie, I am sorry, " Delphine began. "It's just I didn't know what to do with the picket. Is there a particular area I should report to? I know you will be needing…"

"Normally I would tell you to cross through and get your fanny in here, but the press are lurking and this is a madhouse," her boss interrupted. "The board are twiddling their thumbs and meanwhile we're on hold with attending staff and orderlies to manage the patients we have – no new ones."

"No new ones? Not even emergencies?" Delphine questioned, her eyes widening _. What would happen to people in distress, in accidents? Where will they go?_

"I can't get into this with you right now, Dr. Cormier," Leekie responded, even more brusquely. "Suffice it to say I've got my more experienced staff on board, and I can't use you now. Just think of it as, I don't know, a holiday, a day off, for now. I'll have someone call you in the evening."

He abruptly hung up. Delphine held the phone to her ear another moment, distressed.  _More experienced. I've been dismissed,_ she thought. Her throat went dry. She tried to reassure herself.  _Surely they will need me back tomorrow, she reasoned. It's just like he said, a day off, a complication. I hope._ She replaced the receiver in the cradle, paused a moment.

"Excuse me, um, Miss… Doctor Miss…" She heard from behind her. A hand touched her arm. It was the dark-haired woman who'd been on the phone, she realized, coming back to her surroundings. She turned around.

"Ah, yes, the phone," Delphine said. "I suppose you, ah, need to use it, again."

The shorter woman tilted her head, looking at Delphine for a moment. Her tongue probed her teeth again.

"Uh, yes," she answered, after a beat, "but are you alright? It's just, uh, it's just you look pretty freaked out, upset."

"Oh, uh, yes," Delphine blinked, embarrassed, her hand self-conciously smoothing a stray, blonde lock of hair. "It's just… well, there's a striking at the hospital, and suddenly I find I don't have any work do, today." She gathered herself. "But surely you're not interested…"

"Sure I am," the  _—hippie? student? —_ interjected. "Hey, hey, don't get all upset. Hey, so you have the day off. Why don't we, why don't I take you for a coffee at a local place? They actually make omelettes. The owners are French," she explained, her hands flailing again. She grinned, looking a bit abashed. "I mean, I deduced… from the accent…"

Delphine blinked at the other woman. There was something compelling about her, something…  _happy_. "You… deduced," she deadpanned, fighting a slight smile she felt forming around her lips.

"Uh… not French?  _Mais non?_ Still a good omelette is a… a thing of beauty," the woman finished, fingers twisting, her grin a bit nervous. Delphine cracked, let her lips curl upward.

"Yes, French, and, well, I suppose I am a bit hungry," she allowed, finding herself charmed and amused, where she had just been distraught. "You will vouch for this café, Miss…?"

"Niehaus. Cosima Niehaus," the shorter woman provided, smiling back. "Pleased to meet you…" she trailed off, her eyes curious, extending her hand.

"Dr. Delphine Cormier. You may call me Delphine." She took the brunette woman's hand. " _Enchantée."_

"Ooh,  _enchantée_ ," Cosima answered, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go. "Perhaps we can get some…  _café au lait_ ," she bantered back, and Delphine had to chuckle.

" _Mais oui,_  Miss Cosima Neihaus," she nodded, turning to the street. "If you will lead."

Suddenly, the payphone began to ring again. They looked at each other. Cosima crouched slightly in a fight-or-flight position.

"Uh-oh, they're after me," she joked, backing away. "We'd better take off." She started down the street.

Delphine found herself jogging to catch up with her, giggling. The other woman caught her arm and guided her as they crossed the street, weaving through morning traffic. Delphine felt her heart lighten. Suddenly, she wasn't so worried anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

> It's early in the morning  
> About a quarter to three  
> I'm sittin' here talkin' with my baby  
> Over cigarettes and coffee
> 
> \- Otis Redding, "Cigarettes and Coffee," 1966
> 
>  

_Screw the phone calls,_  Cosima thought, opening the door to the coffee shop.  _I'm more responsible than most of the people I know._  She had a delightful feeling in her chest and stomach, like that end of the school year feeling, when your options suddenly opened and you could play and be free. She bounced into the blue vinyl booth and balanced her bag beside her, then watched the willowy French doctor slide into the seat across from her.

 _Docteur Cormier,_ she thought, as the blonde took off her coat. She took in Delphine's wide, deep-set eyes, strong cheekbones, straight nose, and a mouth that might be a bow if she didn't keep smiling so sweetly that way.  _She has a fucking beauty mark just below her lips,_  a voice inside Cosima's head said, though she tried to ignore it.  _Could she be more… French?_  She had a feeling that she was heading down a path to trouble, but one she couldn't resist. That was Cosima's strength, and weakness: she couldn't help being enthusiastically positive when something or someone struck a chord in her. Hell, she couldn't help being positive when things were decidedly worse, even if it was just for others' benefit.

 _Okay, relax,_  she told herself.  _You're just meeting a new fellow human being._   _Don't get ahead of yourself._

A waitress came by and gave them menus, taking their orders for coffee. Delphine examined the chipped formica table.

"So, French owners, but more like an American coffee shop?" she teased, taking in their diner-like surroundings.

"I said they make a mean omelette, I didn't say they were fancy," Cosima smirked. "It's not like all of us are making a doctor's salary. Which makes me wonder; what kind of doctor are you?"

"Oh, I am a physician, working on a specialty in immunology," Delphine answered, with a small gallic shrug. "I've recently started at a hospital, where they're working me into the rotation. I hope to move to research soon, but," her lips slipped through a slight moue, "as I am new, it seems I'm required to work where they see fit to place me." Her forehead wrinkled, looking up from her menu. "What do you think is in the fruit salad?"

Cosima gave her a dry look. "I think it's real fruit, not that canned cocktail salad, if that's what you're wondering," she stated.  _A little tender on the job topic,_  she noted,  _stay light._ "You're in the neighborhood?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm at St. Mary's," Delphine nodded.

"So, you…work with nuns?" Cosima rejoined, sounding a bit nonplussed at the thought. Delphine looked up at her.

" _Oui,_  sometimes I work with the sisters. They are very caring, and have cared for the poor as part of their mission for decades. But, I suppose you are not religious?" Delphine inquired, leaning back slightly, cupping her jaw in her hand.

"Uh, no… yeah, you could say that," Cosima answered, her eyes rolling slightly of their own accord. "Are you?"

Delphine raised her eyebrows again.

"That's an impertinent question, for someone you've just met. You're a bit cheeky, aren't you?"

Cosima examined Delphine's expression, a bit worried, until she saw a small jerk upward at the corner of her mouth betray her seriousness again.

"Cheeky? Me? Why yes, I guess I am, Delphine," Cosima said, her tongue creeping into her cheek. "And I'm very good at getting people to tell me all about themselves."

" _Vraiment?"_ Delphine said, her look also turning playful. "Well, then I hope you also like to answer questions, yourself. And, religion is not a big factor to me in where I work. I got the job, I go where I'm needed, the sisters are fine." She pulled out a cigarette and lighter from her purse, and held it up for a brief inspection.

"None for me, but go ahead," Cosima waved the offer away. "What I smoke wouldn't pass here."

Delphine lit her Gitane and drew, squinting a bit at the woman across the table. Her long, elegant fingers went through the operation with practice, a thumb and forefinger moving quickly to remove a shred of tobacco from her lip. Cosima's eyes were drawn to the gesture.

"So, you are referring to," Delphine said, glancing around for listeners, "illegal substances," she guessed, exhaling a plume. She pointed at Cosima with her cigarette. "You are something of a libertine, I think."

Cosima raised her hands. "Guilty as charged, within reason."

Delphine seemed to consider this, then decide to move on.

"Anyway, we have a saying. _'_ _Qui est pres de l'eglise est souvent loin de Dieu.' '_ One who is near the church is often far from God.' You can be raised Catholic and still have your own opinions about worship. We may have certain… adherence to tradition, but if say, we are a doctor and a scientist, we can operate for the benefit of others, as you said, within reason,  _with_  reason."

" _Touché,_ Doctor Cormier," acquiesced, with a speculative grin.

"And, in addition to that, with nuns, just being women of the cloth does not always make them godly, and it doesn't make them always difficult, either. They may, as individuals, use their faith to be rigid and closed, or to be caring and open." Delphine rested her case, putting her chin back in her hand again.

"Among other things…" Cosima mumbled almost to herself. The women watched each other, trying to deduce the thought processes that might bring that open-ended comment to the other's conclusion. Their eyes locked, and for a moment both almost felt they could follow each other's train of thought, with its curves and its dips, without saying anything.

"Two coffees," the waitress announced, breaking the moment, and asked for their orders. Cosima got an omelette, and Delphine requested a "good, old fashioned American pancake stack." She didn't know why she liked teasing this woman so much, she just did. But Cosima had the last laugh.

"Mock our pancakes and look as self-satisfied as you want," she allowed, taking a sip of her coffee, "but you see what I meant about being able to get people to talk."

Delphine looked affronted for a moment, then allowed a carillon of giggles tumble out of her mouth. And Cosima, she couldn't help herself, she joined right in.

Over breakfast, the two women kept up the conversation, both feeling somehow drawn to getting to know one another, oddly comfortable. Cosima revealed that she, too, was in the sciences, working toward her doctorate in biology at the nearby university. She laughed at Delphine's surprise.

"You thought I was an undergrad, didn't you? You didn't expect that."

"Well, you look very youthful," Delphine defended herself, "and also very… casual." She turned her hands palm up, indicating the obvious.

"Well, I may not look very professional,  _Doctor_  Cormier, but trust me, I am a serious scientist. I'm just taking this summer off to pursue some of my other interests."

"Ah, that is very exciting. I would love to hear about your work. But, other interests? What would those be?"

Cosima glanced away for a moment, then back. "Uh, well, politics. Social change. Performance. Protest. There's a lot going on. And, casual as I may look, I have a few years and a bit more knowledge of practical action than some of my local friends and… associates."

Delphine put down her fork. "So, you are involved with the peace movement, then?"

"Peace, yes  _—_ among other things. Civil rights. Equal opportunity for employment. Equality for women, as well as minorities. Generally, just, taking care of our fellow humans."

"Ah, so our motives are similar, then," Delphine raised her coffee cup. She was really liking this woman. "It's just mine are manifested more in terms of medical practice. Well then," she extended her cup toward Cosima, "to peace."

Cosima felt a warmth spread through her chest. She raised her cup and tapped it against Delphine's.

"To peace."

They had lingered longer than they expected, they realized some time later, catching both the looks from the waitress and the stronger light and heat pouring through the windows. Both were delighted to meet another so interested in their similar studies, from genetics to clonal selection theory. But Delphine also found herself sharing the difficulties of being so new to America, having to adapt without yet feeling like she knew the city or the locals' ways. Cosima did seem to draw things out of her easily, but she found herself wanting to learn more about the biologist, and Cosima seemed to deflect some questions by turning them into questions in return. It kept Delphine wanting to get to know her more.

Realizing they had outstayed the breakfast shift, Cosima made as if to pay, but Delphine insisted that, nurses' strike or no, her doctor's salary could certainly cover both of them and save the student a bit. It didn't really even bother her to think of the strike just a few blocks away from her, now. Somehow, Delphine felt positive that it would all get sorted and she'd be getting back to work soon.

As they exited the restaurant, Delphine turned her face to the sun, smiling, soaking in the warmth for a moment. Cosima watched the light catch the gold in her hair and make her pale skin glow.

 _She looks like an_   _angel_ , flickered through her mind, and Delphine looked at her, almost as if in response.

"So, Cosima," Delphine started, a certain mid-day dreaminess infusing her gaze. "What plans do you have for the rest of your day?"

Cosima opened her mouth then shut it. She seemed to proceed carefully.

"Well, I was going to hang up some flyers, meet with some people," she said. She really didn't want to do that now, but she almost felt as if she was pushing her luck. "And I was possibly going to the Diggers' truck to give them a tip on some produce I found out about." She saw Delphine's brow wrinkle in a question.

"'The Diggers?' I don't think I know it."

"Ah, no," Cosima chuckled, "it's a them. The Diggers salvage food and provide free meals to whoever needs them. They also do, like, some activist performance and other stuff, but the meals and the free store are the big things, at the moment."

"A free store?" Delphine prompted, and Cosima nodded.

"Yeah, it's basically what it sounds like. They have a bunch of stuff and people can go take a look and just… take it," Cosima shrugged.

"So, they are a charity? Like those with a church?"

"Not a church, and not exactly a charity. The Diggers don't believe in money, really. They just find ways to get by. It's not always realistic, I suppose," Cosima offered, "but it's a beautiful way to live."

Delphine looked at Cosima, taking in her dark, earnest eyes squinting in the sun.  _Beautiful,_  she thought,  _a beautiful way to live._

"Well… I seem to find myself on holiday at the moment. Do you need any help?"

A slow smile spread across Cosima's face.

"I'll tell you what. Let me just pass by the Diggers and then maybe I can show you some sights of this city your long hours haven't left you time to see, yet. If I have time, I'll post the flyers later."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuing adventures of Delphine Cormier and Cosima Niehaus in civil rights-era San Francisco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Delphine gets the big tour, Cosima literally drops something revealing, and I drop more historical references on your ass, because all that research had to be for something. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy it!

 

If you believe in magic,  
Come along with me __  
We'll dance until morning, just you and me  
and maybe, if the music is right  
I'll meet you tomorrow  
so late at night

\- The Lovin' Spoonful, "Do You Believe In Magic,"1966

 

It was almost as if the day had been her real first time in the city, Delphine thought, as night fell. She had finally experienced something of it, something of its pulse and people beyond the hospital walls, her apartment and the path inbetween.

The food truck was so close to the hospital, she felt almost ashamed she hadn't known of it, watching what looked like a sloppy but nourishing meal being given out to hungry person after person. Cosima had spoken warmly with a number of people there, and seemed to be well liked and known. A few of those in line and serving did look like the disheveled, rough-living types the resident had talked about, but Delphine felt impressed seeing the younger woman  _—not_ that  _much younger,_  she thought  _—_ greeting everyone with the same kindness. It made Delphine think back to her father's office, and how he helped all the locals out, even when it could be dangerous. It made her think of why she went into medicine and researching cures for disease. She found herself standing beside Cosima, shaking every hand after the brunette did, introducing herself. Cosima had apologized for how long it took as they left, but Delphine told her she was glad she could be there with her, and compulsively took her arm again, walking linked together, as they had at the crosswalk.

"That man who was spooning," she chuckled, nudging Cosima's ribs, "he reminded me of an ex-boyfriend. So… earnest." She smirked a bit.

"Really," Cosima said, still looking ahead. "How about that. Here, let's go through this entrance," she said.

Golden Gate Park practically sparkled in the summer sunshine. The deep greens of mature leaves, the lighter expanses of neat lawns, and blooms and people in multi-colors dotting the landscape all seemed to be in a natural harmony. It would be hard to be unhappy on a day like this. Delphine nudged her companion.

"It seems as if you're quite popular," she said, "I suppose if I want to get to know people here I should stick with you."

"Yeah, well, it's funny," Cosima replied, squinting a bit through her glasses in the sun, "I usually don't get out that much. I mean, with my studies, I'm usually inside, caught up working on my science, you know? I pretty much live for it, and people can find it weird. 'Oh, but you should find yourself a husband and have some children, before it's too late.'" Delphine nodded knowingly at the impression Cosima did of a pushy, older woman.

"I'm really kind of a nerd, when you get right down to it. It's just that, since I decided to take action on some of the things I believe in, getting involved in the community has, you know, let me get to meet more people. Turns out I can use the organizational and observational skills I need in the lab to help groups of people get together and mediate," she shrugged.

_And probably your kind, smart, funny disposition,_  Delphine thought to herself.  _There is a part of this woman that is quite outgoing, despite her self-deprecation._

"Well, I am 'kind of a nerd,' then, also," Delphine admitted. "My father is proud of me for working so hard in my studies and medical practice, but my mother sometimes worries that I'm going to miss out on things she finds fulfilling, like marriage and motherhood, as you said. I will agree that spending so much time on my work does make it hard to socialize, and it can get a bit lonely, especially in this," she made a broad, encompassing gesture at the park, the city, the foreign culture she found herself in, "— brave, new world. But, it's really nice to make a friend here."

Cosima grinned and nudged the doctor back.

"Yeah, yeah it is," she agreed. "I mean, you've got to find that balance between work and a social life which, eventually, I will have to get together, once the semester begins, but uh, I'm kind of digging getting to hang out with the new French lady doctor in town in the afternoon."

The women smiled at each other, both just shy of blushing. Delphine didn't know why, but it felt like she had been waiting to meet this person, as though she was reuniting with a long-lost friend.

They went to the Conservatory of Flowers, where the smaller girl impressed her with her horticultural knowledge.

"Don't get too excited," Cosima shrugged, "I've been coming here since before I could say 'flower.'"

They caught a bus and stopped in Chinatown, looking into shop windows and sampling the most delicious dumplings Delphine had ever had. They wandered awhile, Cosima playing the perfect hostess, showing her unexpected treasures and sharing bits of quirky history or personal associations, then asking her about her life in France. Walking with Cosima, the colors seemed brighter, the sounds and smells richer.  _I've made a new friend,_  Delphine thought,  _and she seems wonderful._

They wound up at Coit Tower, taking in views of much of the city and the bay. Delphine was amazed. She always knew her home city was seen to be one of the most beautiful in the world, but San Francisco had a different charm that bowled her over. The sweep of the bay to the bridges, the distant islands, the roll of the land beneath the buildings and a certain light — everything seemed fresh, compared to Paris.

"So, have you enjoyed your tour, so far?"

Cosima leaned between arched windows. The shadows around her were longer, the light on her skin turning rosy as the sun sank.  _So far,_ Delphine thought, with a small thrill.  _That means she's going to show me more._

"I have enjoyed it so much," she answered, her gaze warm and thankful. "Since I've moved here, I've seen so little. It has been delightful." She touched Cosima's arm. "I've had a splendid tour guide."

"Well,  _merci_ , then," Cosima grinned, awkwardly miming a curtsey. Both of them laughed.

"I'm so glad. However, I do have some things I have to take care of, and some people to meet. Can I 'guide' you to your home, or at least that general direction?"

Delphine's face visibly fell before she realized it.

"Oh, of course, I didn't know you had to go. You've been so kind, taking time out of your day for me. Don't let me keep you from what you must do."

Cosima's eyes ranged her face.

"Hey, I'm not abandoning you here right now. And it was my pleasure. I hope we can do it again, soon."

Delphine felt foolish and relieved at the same time. "I'd like that. And yes, please, it would be nice to have your company on my way home. You are so charming."

"Oh, uh, 'charming,' eh? Yeah, that's my number-one specialty," she joked. "'Charming.' Far out."

Delphine laughed, not sure whether to blush or hit Cosima lightly in rebuke. She settled for taking her arm again.

The trip back was pleasant, Delphine just enjoying being with the other woman and the banter they shared. When they arrived outside her apartment, she felt a sudden loss _. I don't want her to go,_  she understood. Then _, don't be silly, she likes you, too. You'll see her again._  A moment of quiet developed between them, the streetlight a circle around them dimming the rest of the world.

"Well, thank you again," Delphine half-smiled. "Do you, mm, do you live nearby?"

"Oh, down on Ashbury, below the panhandle. Not far. And I'm," she waved a hand around, indicating the general area, "around, a lot." Delphine nodded.

"And, I mean, I could totally call you, if you want to hang out, again."

Delphine found herself hugging herself a bit. "Yes, I would love that. Let's exchange telephone numbers."

"Cool," Cosima smiled, opening her bag and rummaging in it. Multicolored pages flashed by as she flipped them, a magazine called  _Vortex_ , a flyer for a "Mime Troupe" benefit concert, a "Congress On Racial Equality," a drawing of a fist. Cosima pulled out a paper with wavy, looped designs on it and tore it in half, handing one part and a pencil to the older woman. Delphine carefully wrote down her number on the back, bracing the paper against her purse, and handed it over.

"And yours?" she asked.

"Yeah, I have to warn you, though, I'm not home that much, and my friends are shit at taking messages," Cosima chuckled, writing on the other slip of paper.

"No? Well, unfortunately, since I work a lot, it can be hard to reach me…" Delphine's forehead wrinkled.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I kind of think it's karma that we'll meet," Cosima winked, "and I'll keep an eye out for you." She tried to close her bag, and a bunch of papers tumbled out, hitting the sidewalk. "Whoa, whoops."

Both girls bent down to pick up the pages, Cosima scrambling. Delphine had just reached the bottom of the pile and was reaching for a booklet when Cosima's hand sped up and snatched it up in a blur.

But it hadn't been fast enough. Delphine had seen the picture of a black woman with short hair in proud profile on the cover. The title above her read " _THE LADDER: A LESBIAN REVIEW."_

Something in her brain paused, rewound.  _But, Cosima is not black, she isn't in a band or mime troupe, as far as she has said_ , she found herself reasoning _, so why should I assume from just one newsletter that…?_  Cosima was looking at her from above, closing her bag, a little flustered. Delphine stood, her eyes tracking with her thoughts, unconsciously pulling her coat a little tighter around herself.

"Um, so, thanks for the help. I'm so clumsy," Cosima was saying, one hand waving, the other clutching her bag.

Delphine felt a breeze stir around them, cooling the air. She tucked away an errant hair again, and tried to let her shoulders relax.

"Oh, yes, of course."

"So, um, 'til we meet again?"

Delphine found herself rooted, stiff. For some reason, her mind went to the nuns, to Leekie.  _"You have to watch who you associate yourself with, be professional,"_  she could almost hear him say. She took a breath and looked at Cosima, seeing the small girl trying to hide looking wary, sussing her out. She didn't like that. She felt herself uncurl a bit.

"Yes, we will meet again.  _Á bientôt."_ She quickly stepped forward and pressed her cheeks to Cosima's, one then the other, a soft kiss in the air beside the first, and then, as the smaller girl moved, surprised, another brushing together the corners of their lips.

Delphine stepped back, a soft smile on her face. Cosima couldn't be sure if that smile was reaching the French woman's eyes in the streetlight shadows. Before she could figure it, Delphine turned and scampered into the house, tossing a small wave over her shoulder.

_Á bientôt,_ Cosima repeated in her head, and turned to walk away.  
  


*****

Delphine was called in the next day, to play catch-up with her rounds and patients. The nurses were in bargaining, but the picket line had turned to a few women holding signs near the main doors. The day was hectic, but she was glad, in a way, because that meant that Leekie was too busy to sniff her out and follow her around, expounding his wisdom.  _Not that he isn't brilliant,_  Delphine reminded herself,  _don't be ungrateful._  But was a relief not to endure his teasing that was clearly serious underneath, and feel his hands sliding like oil around her.

The shift was extended, but despite the grueling amount and length of work, when she found herself flagging, she would think of the surprise lovely day she'd had with Cosima just yesterday and feel her spirits and energy rise. By the time she was able to leave, however, she found herself blinking, disoriented in the early morning light, the street turned cool and quiet. Arriving home, she found the landlady doing the morning ritual of an early sidewalk sweeping. It reminded her a bit of early mornings in Paris, the older women already up, moving the dust around. She paused with a soft smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Janklowicz. Did you happen to hear my telephone ringing yesterday or last night?"

The woman looked at her from under her eyebrows, barely pausing sweeping.

"I don't go listening for your phone to ring," she answered. "But I didn't hear it, either, if that's what you want to know."

"Of course, right," Delphine gave a short nod, internally rolling her eyes and feeling a bit amused. She didn't know why she still bothered.

She made her way almost directly into the bathroom, undressing neatly by the bed and throwing her silk robe on, then setting the tap. She poured herself a glass of wine, rubbing her neck. She wasn't sure how long she stood like that, but she realized she was staring out the window, looking at the street as if wanting to see just who might pass by.  _Delphine, in your robe,_  she thought, shaking her head.

The warm water relaxed her, but she kept feeling she was waiting for something, a sign or a sound. As her fingers neared wrinkling, she climbed out of the tub, set it to drain and did her evening facial and brushing her teeth. Her eyes were tired in the mirror, she thought, but she also found herself turning her head, watching the planes of her face change appearance in the shades of light and darkness, evaluating the softness of her skin.  _It could be worse,_ said the voice inside her head.

She stopped and let out a  _tsk. Really, Delphine, why are you peering at yourself like this? You're turning into your mother,_ she admonished herself, shaking her head and turning off the light.

She had just wanted to check, she felt, sleepily pulling the covers up to her collarbone and settling into the bed. She just wasn't sure what she was checking for.


	4. Chapter 4

Feel when I dance with you  
We move like the sea  
You, you’re all I want to know  
I feel free, I feel free, I feel free

\- Cream, “I Feel Free,” 1966

 

By the time Delphine was awake, the morning was slipping away.  She briefly chastised herself for sleeping so late on one of her days off, but she had worked nearly 24 hours, so she accepted it. 

The sky outside was blue and bright, the air warm through her window.  _Today, I will go to the park,_ she decided, finishing her toast and coffee.  She had enjoyed the walk to the Botanic Garden with Cosima so much.  It would be nice to get out in the open. She threw on a simple sundress and a sun hat, put a book and a throw in her bag and headed out.

Her pace was leisurely through the park, letting her shoulders relax and stopping to look at flowers.  Moving further in, she began to see more people who had the same idea she did.  On a day like today, one couldn’t expect the beautiful lawns to remain uncrowded.

She paused, looking for a place to sit.  She noticed more people gathering on a small hill, and pondered how quiet she wanted her reading time to be.  Before she could decide, she noticed a familiar figure working its way through the groups and blankets.

It was Cosima.   Delphine immediately felt herself brighten, seeing her.  The small woman was walking up to people and handing them flyers, stopping for a quick chat here and there.  A deep red, short dress and tall boots very much suited her, _moreso than the dungarees,_ Delphine thought, her fingers unconsciously tracing the neckline of her dress.  Cosima was a bit far away to call to, but she was meandering in her direction.

After a few moments, Cosima set one direction and quickened her pace to meet up with a small gathering, Delphine noted.  She watched as other people joined in, most holding flyers, forming a small circle.  It was funny how familiar Cosima’s body language and hand gestures already felt to Delphine as she watched.  She moved and talked with such a quirky grace, her hands forming her own sign language as she spoke, all rapid-paced.  The group began to disperse and Cosima walked next to a man in a clerical collar for a few paces, coming closer to where Delphine stood.  They exchanged smiles and a loose handshake, the man turned down a different path, and Cosima was within shouting distance, her eyes on her notebook and pen.  
  
“Cosima!” Delphine called, and raised a hand in a wave.  The other woman stopped, spotted her, smiled and jogged over.

“I thought you weren’t religious,” Delphine teased as her new friend approached.

“Heyyy, Delphine… what?” Cosima looked confused for a second.  “Oh, the Reverend,” she figured out, tossing a look back at where he’d gone.  “He just works with this youth group, and I help out sometimes.  I know a lot of the street kids.  No worship involved,” she joked.

“Ah, and here I thought you were converted,” Delphine smiled.  “It’s so nice to see you.”

“It’s… it’s great to see you, too,” Cosima grinned. “Uh, I was just on my way to hang out with some friends.  Would you like to come?”

Delphine didn’t even think about it.  “Yes,” she answered, and right away found Cosima catching her hand, pulling her gently through the people gathered on the ground or blankets.

“C’mon, this way,” she guided, and before Delphine knew it Cosima had stepped a bit ahead, letting her hand go and gesturing to some folks on a colorful fabric spread with an Indian-looking pattern.  “Hey, guys, this is Delphine.”

The group broke their conversation and looked up. 

“This is Kira, and my cousin Sarah, and her husband Cal,” Cosima introduced.  A very cute small girl with curly hair topped with a circle of flowers waved, as did her dark-haired mother and father.  Delphine could definitely see the family resemblance all around.

“And this is Felix, and Paul.” A lanky young man nodded and said hello — was he smirking? And wearing _eyeliner?_ The other man, with a battered army jacket and haunted eyes just looked at her. “And this is our picnic,” Cosima finished, gesturing to a small spread of fruit, cold chicken, salad and some kind of loaf bread.

“Wine? Beer?” Cal offered, reaching into a small cooler.

“Wine please, thank you,” Delphine answered.  “How lovely this all is.”

Cosima was smiling and gesturing that she sit down.  Delphine took a seat where she could face her.  She glanced to her right.

“I’m sorry, but are those… brooms?” she asked, puzzled at the sight of long, shop brooms at one end of the blanket.  Felix laughed. 

“Oh, she’s a quick one.” He was definitely smirking now, and Cosima rolled her eyes, then answered.

“Yes, they’re for an action we’re doing called ‘Clean Sweep.’ People from Vanguard  — that group the Rev is working with  — are protesting harassment and discrimination in the Tenderloin.  The brooms go with the name, which, like, is playing off the vice sweeps the police always do.”

Cal handed Delphine a small cup of white wine.  She took a sip, about to ask more, when a bunch of other people came over, loudly greeting the others and sitting down.  There were a few moments of everyone moving and talking around her where Delphine felt a little lost and couldn’t see much but legs, and when they settled, a pretty young woman was sitting next to Cosima, very close, her shoulder and knees against her, her eyes locked on her face.  Delphine felt a little overwhelmed.  She took another sip of wine.

Introductions went around, a few too many for Delphine to remember.   But, despite barely receiving a glance from her, Delphine did remember the woman next to Cosima was called Jane, and that Cosima looked uncomfortable with her. 

Sarah poked Delphine’s leg lightly with her foot.  “Hey, Delphine.  Are you staying for the concert?” Her voice had and an unexpected British tang to it, just like Felix’s.

“Concert?”

Sarah nodded her head towards and area up the hill.  “Yeah.  A couple bands are gonna jam for a while.  Nothing formal, just for fun.”

“And to get people interested in them,” Felix joined in, reaching over for an apple.  “Everyone’s got to make a buck.  Although, who cares, as long as there’s a party?”

“Oh,” Delphine replied, “well, I…”

“So, Delphine, you’re from France,” came a voice from the across the circle.  It was that girl next to Cosima, Jane, and it sounded more like a statement than a question.

“Yes, I’m from Paris…”

“So what do you think of Vietnam?  I mean, since you people started the whole thing.”

Delphine was taken aback.  Not so much because of the reference to her country’s former colonization, as by the aggression in the other woman’s voice.  Next to Jane, Cosima’s mouth formed a silent O.

“Excuse me?” Delphine asked, getting a bit flustered.  “I don’t think…”

“But I guess you had other things to think about, with the Algerians,” the other woman overrode her condescendingly.  Delphine felt attacked.  Jane had definitely crossed over the line of rude.

“Don’t…” Cosima started, but Delphine blurted over her.

“France has been out of Vietnam since 1954.  It was the American government that could not stand the communists…”

“Oh, like the French loved the communists. And why were they there in the first place?  It seems to me that the people of your _‘Indochine’_ just kicked France right out of it.  Now with the man in Washington butting in…”

“Hey, whoa…” Cosima tried to interject.

“ _Oui,_ precisely, in Washington,” Delphine countered, her accent thickening with her upset.  “I can’t defend what our government did over the last century, but the communists…”

Jane pushed.  “What, the people can’t be allowed to govern themselves?”

“Stop…” Cosima was saying, rising up on her knees. Delphine felt her own voice rising.

“What about the communists?  I have no problem with them.  My father, he worked with them and socialists together, everyone side by side, in the French Resistance. He treated everyone who needed him. I lived through occupation.  I have no love for war. Why are you attacking me about this?”

“Okay, _stop it,”_ Cosima broke in, her arm cutting through the air between them. Anger clouded her usually sunny face.  “Jane: _out.”_

“What?” Jane protested, looking wounded. “I was just…”

“Fucking with my guest, who you’ve never met, and know nothing about,” Cosima stated, her voice just past firm into pissed off territory.  “Delphine isn’t into the war, and she’s not the ambassador from France.  So, why don’t you just split until you can get your head together and act like a rational human being?”

“Yeah, _Jane,”_ Felix added, making her name sound like an epithet.  “Why don’t you stop taking the piss and go be a bitch somewhere else?”

Jane stood, outnumbered.  Her gaze flicked between the opposing trio — no, more, because Sarah and some others were looking at her with disgust, too.  She threw one last narrow-eyed look at Delphine, then stamped off through the gathering. 

Cosima stepped over and sat by Delphine, placing her hands on the shaken woman’s arms.

“Delphine, I’m so sorry about that.  Forget about her…”

A chord was struck from amidst the crowd up the hill and a drum joined in.  One of the bands had started, and their speakers were definitely turned up.  Cosima furrowed her brow against the interruption, and Delphine shook her head. She was still upset, but placed a hand on one of Cosima’s arms, leaning in to be heard.

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you…”

A bluesy, woman’s voice cut through the music, causing some of the people around them to hoot and pump their fists.

 _“Down on meeee, down on meee…”_ the woman sang. _“Looks like everybody in this whole round world, is down on meee.”_

Delphine and Cosima looked at each other, eyes locked, and then both started to smile in unison.  Cosima took Delphine’s hand and stood up.

“Come on warmonger,” she invited, “let’s go dance.”

******

 

Delphine was a little stiff.  She was not used to moving in the free-form, space ranging way some of the people around her danced.  Back in France, she was still used to Yé-Yé pop or even Mod-style music from over in England. She bounced on her feet, head bobbing, arms a little awkward.

Cosima, on the other hand, flowed and swung her body with a graceful abandon.  She fully seemed into the music, until her eyes caught Delphine’s and she smiled, again taking one of her hands and prompting her to lean into the rhythm, her movements toning down to meet Delphine’s in the middle.  Delphine couldn’t help but grin back at her, feeling the energy of the less inhibited woman flow through her, down her arm and into her hips.

Felix passed by, giving a twirl.  He handed a small, lit cigarette to Cosima and she took it, raising it to her mouth with her thumb and forefinger, taking a deep drag and holding it in.

 _That’s not a cigarette,_ Delphine realized, as a sweet, earthy smell wafted toward her.  _That’s not tobacco._

Cosima paused and looked at her, then raised the joint slightly in her direction, her eyes forming an offer.  A thousand thoughts went through Delphine’s mind at once, thoughts about her parents, propriety, her job, her visa status.  But they went by in a blur.  Delphine felt her fingers reaching out, and she took a long drag off the marijuana cigarette.  Part of her couldn’t believe she was doing it, but the dominant part was looking into Cosima’s eyes calmly, languidly.

Felix was dancing with them, his poses dramatic, while Cal and Sarah bounced, each holding one of Kira’s hands.  Paul nodded a bit to the rhythm on the blanket, still looking miserable, but the others around them were all feeling the _vibe,_ as Delphine thought it was called.  She felt suddenly younger than her years, and more in touch, more grounded in the San Francisco atmosphere. 

Cosima had kicked her boots off, and Delphine followed suit, sliding out of her kitten heels.  Another twirl and Cosima was close behind her, an arm around her shoulders, their movements adjusting to match, swaying with the music. Delphine closed her eyes, letting her head lean back, and Cosima was singing along with the band under her breath near Delphine’s ear.

 _“Well, baby, when times are bad,_  
Now call on me, darling, and I'll come to you.  
When you're in trouble and feel so sad,  
Well, call on me, darling, come on call on me, and I'll help you…”  

Delphine was feeling more than thinking, letting her worried, scientific mind drift away.  There was a sudden tug as Cosima turned, a young man with an afro leaning in to say something to her.  Cosima pulled away gently, Delphine turning to face her.

“I’ll be right back,” Cosima assured her.  “Don’t go anywhere.”

Delphine stood, dancing a bit as Cosima walked quickly off, but she soon felt awkward again and decided to sit down.  She looked for her wine cup amidst the clutter on the blanket.

“Thirsty?” A young man smiled, offering her a cup.  She only slightly recognized him from the group that had joined them.  He was bare-chested, his long sideburns bushing out from under a floppy fishing hat.

“Thank you,” Delphine took the cup, took a drink and struggled against scrunching her face up.  The liquid was bright red, overly sweet and fruity, something for children.  She looked up to comment to the young man, but he had moved away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's time I told y'all, just in case you haven't heard of it, that this fic is named after a song recorded by Sam Cooke in 1963. It's considered an important song for the era because it implies that the change to come will be racial equality and civil rights. You may also have heard Adam Lambert sing it when he was on American Idol, where people interpreted it as referring to LGBTQ rights/equality. Anyway, I thought it fit this piece for a number of reasons, but mostly I used it because it's a really good song. Check it out.

 

Picture yourself on a boat in a river  
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies  
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly  
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes

\- The Beatles, “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds,” 1967

 

It felt like a long time before Cosima came back, but it also felt alright.  Delphine lay on her back, arms over her head, watching the clouds shifting shape as they slowly slid across the sky.  The music was different, a different band, she absently noticed, but they just sounded  _good_ , whatever they were playing.

“Hey, sorry about that,” Cosima was suddenly saying, her face looming above her, “are you having a good time?”

“The best,” Delphine giggled.  “I have the best time with you.”  She examined her friend’s face, her pink mouth.  She didn’t know why Cosima’s eyebrows were pulling together, but her eyes were shot through with colors: golds, greens and browns, in shapes like a tree crown or starbust.  Delphine reached up and touched her cheek.

“You are so beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with wonder.

“Okayyy… okay,” Cosima processed, and then straightened up.  She caught Felix, dancing by, by the collar.

“Fee, she’s  _tripping,_ ” she said with a bit of an edge to her voice.  “What happened?”

Felix shrugged, his pupils blown, as well. “I dunno, Gary was handing it out.”

“Gary?” Cosima almost-yelled.  “As in Jane’s Gary? They  _dosed_  her?”

Again Felix shrugged, his eyes closing.  Delphine pawed limply at Cosima’s leg.

“It’s alright,  _chérie_ ,” Delphine assured her, patting her shin, “Everything is wonderful.  Why don’t you come join me, again?”

Cosima looked down at her for a moment, one hand to her forehead.   _I cannot believe this.  Fucking Jane!_ she thought. _Okay, priorities: Delphine is flying like she never has before, and not in her right mind while she’s... looking at me like…_ that _.  Wow.  Whoa, pull it together.  You’ve got to take care of her — she didn’t bargain for this._ She shook her head a bit, and then sat down.

“Alright, sweetie, alright, I’m here with you,” she said taking Delphine’s hand and patting it.  Delphine thought that felt so  _nice._ “We’ll just hang out, and listen to the music, have a snack and drink some water, okay?”

Delphine was laughing and she wasn’t sure why, but she was happy, so happy.  She tried to snatch a thought out of her head.  She so wanted to share with Cosima.

“Did you know Kool-Aid is disgusting?” she said.

*****

Night was falling, and Delphine was sitting under a tree with Cosima, the stars coming out.  She rested her head in Cosima’s lap.

 “The cold thing about  _existentialisme_ is the insistence on aguish,” she was continuing. “As if there is no room in taking action for others in society without losing one’s essence.” Her eyes widened to make a point.

“Mm-hmm,” Cosima answered, brushing stray hair from Delphine’s forehead.  “It’s just another bag, man.  Another made-up set of rules to live by, as if everything was so clean-cut and we had to live by another system, another criticism, that’s totally arbitrary, without proof and against a part of our nature.” 

“You are so right,” Delphine nodded, watching the stars streak by in her friend’s dark eyes.  “Cosima, I feel I know you.”  Her hand reached up to cup the dark-haired woman’s face, thumb lightly touching the edge of her lips. Cosima looked down at her for a long moment.

“I think we’d better get you home, now,” Cosima exhaled, pulling her up.  “I think you could use some rest; your quiet, home bed.”

Delphine stood without resistance, giggling.  “Yes,  _quiet,_ ” she said, with a bit of a sigh, letting Cosima support her by the shoulders and take her to the path.

By the time they got to her house, Delphine  _was_ feeling a bit tired.  Cosima walked behind her up the stairs, watching her as she dropped her keys on the side table, tossed down her hat.  Delphine glanced at her bag, hefting it.

“I didn’t read my book, but I’m glad,” she notified her friend, her expression serious.  Cosima sighed and slipped into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water.  Delphine let her guide it to her lips, taking cold, clean swallows.

“I’m glad you’re glad,” Cosima assured her, turning her with a gentle push at the small of her back. “Let’s get you to bed, which I think is… that way,” she nodded. Delphine blew some air through her lips and moved toward her room. 

Streetlight was shining through above the curtains, making a lengthened double of the window on the bedspread.  Delphine pulled off her sundress over her head and flopped down on her back.

“I never really listened to that kind of music,” she said, as her friend stood by her bed, her hand once again on her forehead.

“So you said,” Cosima answered, drawing her eyes away from the long, lean stomach, the lace at the hips and breasts of her friend.  “Okay, let’s tuck you in.”

Delphine caught her arm gently as she pulled the sheet up. 

“Cosima,” she said, “thank you for everything.  I’m starting to feel like…” she bit her lip, “as though I am falling into this city, falling  _for_  it.  My life has been so… antiseptic the last few months…”

“Okay, that’s quite… okay,” Cosima answered, looking a bit weary.  She draped the sheet over Delphine’s chest and straightened up.

“Cosima, I want to sleep, but… I feel like something is thrumming around me, on the edges… like I could fall into a bad dream, or something, alone.  What do you call it?  A bad  _trip.”_

“No, sweetie, you’ll be fine,” Cosima answered, keeping her distance. “I promise.”

Delphine still held her arm.  “Stay with me?  For a little while, until I sleep?” she asked, doe eyes imploring.

Cosima closed her eyes for a moment.  Delphine saw her eyes moving behind her lids, her slow breath.

“Delphine,” she finally said, her eyes opening and looking directly into Delphine’s.  “I’m gay.”

Delphine stared back.  She gave a little nod of her head and let herself realize what she had been sensing.  “I know. At least, I figured.  But it’s okay with me, Cosima.  It’s okay.  I trust you,” she said.

“You trust me,” Cosima said a bit flatly, her eyes squinting.

“Yes, I’m not judgmental.  I trust you, you are my friend.” Delphine reassured her, patting her arm.

Her look was guileless, Cosima thought, briefly clasping her hands as if in prayer against her forehead.  She looked out the window.

“Okay, well… thanks,” she said stepping backward.  “I’m just going to pull this chair up and sit beside you, okay?  I’m going to look at your book until you can fall asleep, now.  Just close your eyes and relax your head.”

Delphine smiled slightly at Cosima’s shape as it was silhouetted in the streetlight.  She wanted to say something more, but she was too tired.  She closed her eyes, reassured.

Beside her, pages shuffled, breath sighed.  Everything was streaming, whole and perfect.  She let the stars sing her to rest.

** **


	6. Chapter 6

At a dance I’m standing there  
Suddenly approached by a lady fair  
She said to me, ‘t’aint no lie  
If I can’t have you, I’d surely die’  
Psychodrama City, don’t need none today

\- The Byrds, “Psychodrama City,” 1966

 

Delphine’s eyes opened, letting in morning light.  She was disoriented for a moment, reaching to remember how she ended up in bed the night before.  She turned her head.  Cosima was sitting in the chair next to her bed, the book opened in her lap, staring at Delphine,

“Hey,” she said quietly. Good morning.”

Delphine kept looking at her, her consciousness slipping into place.

“Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

Delphine reached a hand up and pushed her fingers through her hair.

“A little out of it, but alright.  How are you?”

Cosima shifted. “A little stiff from this chair, but I’m alright, too.”

There was a wordless pause between them.  They still gazed at one another.  A mourning dove cooed its wistful song out the window.

Cosima reached up in a stretch, cracking her neck, then dropped her arms.

Delphine thought a minute.

“Cosima?”

“Yes?” The smaller woman shut the book in her lap softly.

“I am glad to see you.”

“Well, alright.  I’m glad to see you, too.” 

Another beat.

“Cosima?”

“Yes, Delphine?”

“Did I get drugged last night?”

Cosima sighed and placed the book on the nightstand.

“Yes, Delphine.  Someone slipped you L.S.D.”

Delphine considered this.

“Gary, as-in-Jane’s-Gary?”

A tiny smile rose below Cosima’s tired, shadow-lined eyes.

“Yes, Delphine.  I’m sorry, so sorry for that.  Jane can be…” She looked away for a moment, “She’s my ex.  I think she was jealous of my attention.”  She placed her hands between her knees and hunched her shoulders.  “What an asshole.”

Delphine felt a short chuckle emerge from her chest.  She rubbed her eyes.

“Yes.  What an _asshole,”_ she repeated, making Cosima chuckle back.  She stretched a bit.  “Still, all things considered, it could have been much worse, much more _dramatic._ ” She thought for a moment, then sat up, holding the sheet to her chest with one hand and pressing her other hand to her forehead. _“Mon dieu!”_ Her eyes widened. “Thank goodness I didn’t have work today!  That would have been… it would have been dangerous to my job,” she realized, beginning to look angry.

“I know,” Cosima said, placing a hand on her knee, “and I’m sorry for that.  But if you did, I would have figured out a way to cover for you.”

Delphine looked at her, caught somewhere between thankfulness and horror. 

“This could have been a _disaster._ Not to mention _unsafe.”_

“Yeah, I’m aware of that.  Believe me, I had _no idea_ she’d do something like that,” Cosima told her.  Delphine let the panic wash over herself for a second, and then quashed it down. _You should have been more careful. Cosima did the best she could_ , she thought.  She took a deep breath and let it out, looking into Cosima’s eyes.

“Alright.  It’s alright.  It’s over now, and thank you for taking care of me.”

Cosima patted her knee and leaned back.

“Of course.”

Another moment of quiet.  The whirr of bike wheels zipped past on the pavement outside.

 _“Fuck!”_ Delphine suddenly said, pressing her hand to her mouth and looking at Cosima.  A worried expression crossed the darker girl’s face, but then Delphine began to giggle.  Then she couldn’t stop, clutching her stomach, a tear of laugher streaking from one eye.  Cosima joined her, both women laughing until they were hunched over, gasping, then looking at one another and letting the moment pass.  They were quiet again.

“Alright, then,” Delphine finally said.  “I am going to take a shower, and then…” she stood up, slipping off the other side of the bed and reaching for her robe from the bathroom door.  “Would you like to have breakfast with me?” 

She smiled over her shoulder, but Cosima wasn’t smiling.  She got up and approached Delphine, both hesitation and determination in her step.  She stopped just in front of the taller woman.  
  
“Delphine,” she began, “Don’t you think it’s time we admitted what this is really about?”

Time, the air, seemed thick, like molasses. Delphine couldn’t think.  Cosima moved forward, touching Delphine’s shoulder.  She leaned in.  Delphine felt Cosima’s lips press gently against hers, soft but deliberate.  She felt her eyes go wide.  She touched Cosima’s face, pulled away. Her lips pulled into a nervous smile and she shook her head.

“Oh, I…” Cosima fumbled, stepping back.  “Oh, God, Delphine… did I make a huge mistake?”  They both had stretched smiles now, smiles that were not happy.  Cosima backed away.  
  
“I’m not… You can’t…” Delphine breathed.  Again there were things flashing through her head — Leekie, her job, her tentative grip on America, on finding a way to belong.

Cosima held up her hands. “I’m sorry,” she offered, “I was crazy… I made an assumption…”

Delphine pulled her robe around herself and held still, her eyes wide.  Then she broke.

“Cosima, you can’t… I’m a _respectable woman_ ,” she said, her voice coming out colder than she expected.  “I have my career, my visa... you can’t…” she waved a hand between them as if trying to erase a blackboard.  “I think you’d better go.”

Cosima looked at her for a beat, then nodded.

“Yeah,” she agreed, her voice low.  “I think I’d better go, too.”

Sparks flew between their eyes, of sadness and anger.  Cosima turned on her heels and walked out.

Delphine sank onto the bed, her hand clutching her mouth.

 _“Merde,”_ she whispered.  “Fuck.”


	7. Chapter 7

Circus of Sour / holds shows every hour / the lion is eating the bars, hey the bars  
… Admission is paid up / until you are laid up / there’s only one catch to the fun, hey the fun  
To hell if you’re willin’ / your name’s on the billing / and it seems that you’re wanted / in ring number three

\- Donovan, “Circus of Sour,” 1966

 

Delphine was so tired.  She was actually glad for the heavy workload, for the patients and their problems.  Turning her mind to using her skills for others was rewarding, but more than that, it gave her something to focus on — because her mind _had_ been turning.

She had stayed at home all day on her day off, sometimes spasmed with unnamed, confusing emotions that rocked her, sometimes just staring into space.  She managed a cup of tea by mid-morning, was able to doze, fitfully, for a short while and then forced herself to down some toast and a glass of milk in the evening.  She couldn’t focus on her meagre mail — mostly bills — but she was able to organize some of her notes on her immunology proposal.  Still, by nightfall she was curled in a chair, book in lap, staring out the window, occasionally chewing her lip or a fingernail.

 _Cosima_.

She blew out a long sigh and got up.  Maybe a bath would soothe her.

She laid in the water, apartment silent except for the tip-tip-tipping of a passing rain shower on the windowsill.  She deeply inhaled the soothing lavender smell of her bath salts.

 _I want to see her again,_ she thought. _She was — she_ is _the best person I’ve met since I’ve been here, perhaps even longer.  The kindest, the most fascinating._  

A tear slid from her eye _. I want her to be my friend.  She — she_ gets _me.  Except…_

Delphine hugged herself.  She felt a chill, despite the warm water, her skin peaking in gooseflesh.

_Except she kissed me._

Her whole body pressed together, legs tight, thighs to toes.  She tried to make her mind blissfully blank, but her breath hitched.

_She shouldn’t have done that._

She grabbed her washcloth and unplugged the drain.  Before the tub even emptied, she turned the shower on, using the cloth and her bar soap to scrub herself clean all over with brisk strokes, her breath coming out in puffs. She rinsed, hopped out and dried herself, then pulled out an old night gown — too short, worn thin, but so soft — and got into bed.

She barely slept at all that night.

Now it was nearing the end of her shift, and she swore she could feel the circles under her eyes getting deeper, growing.  Despite that, she grasped for some small tasks to keep herself there, keep herself busy.  She was reviewing old patient files when Dr. Aldous Leekie slid up behind her, very close, his breath in her ear.

“Dr. Cormier, a moment?”

She looked straight ahead, then turned around.

“Yes, Dr. Leekie, of course.”

He led her to his office and opened the door for her.  She hesitated in the doorway, expecting to be caught alone with him in his office, again, but she was surprised to see a woman sitting at his desk.

“Miss Duncan,” Leekie introduced, “This is Dr. Cormier.  Dr. Cormier, Rachel Duncan.”

Delphine’s eyes widened a bit.  _Rachel Duncan…  as in Dr. Ethan Duncan?  Rachel Duncan as in the Duncan Wing, the chair of the board of the hospital?_   Her mouth went dry.

The woman before her was small and fit, with bobbed, blonde hair and sharp eyes.  She did not smile, did not reach to shake Delphine’s hand.

“Dr. Cormier,” she said, a slight upper-class British clip in her voice.

“Miss Duncan.  _Enchantée_. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes, please sit.”

Delphine found herself sitting in the indicated chair as if the small, precise nod of the woman’s head was her own personal dog whistle. Leekie took the guest chair beside her.

“Dr. Cormier, you have been in consideration for a position in our Immunology Research Center through San Francisco University.”  Rachel Duncan’s voice was dry, nothing but the facts.

“Yes, Miss Duncan, I have been revising my proposal…”

“Dr. Cormier, I want you to be aware that we are redirecting some of our funding to the Genetics Program, and that there are other candidates being considered for the Immunology position.”

Delphine’s eyebrows shot up.

“I… I didn’t know…”

“Mm,” Duncan cut her off.  “Well, now you do.”  She leaned back in Leekie’s office chair — no, _her_ office chair, she had taken complete possession of it.

“What I find curious is that Dr. Leekie hired you and flew you all the way here from France for a position that was not solidified yet, then kept you in a holding pattern in the hospital when he well knew there would be other candidates well qualified to fill it.”

Delphine felt the color drain from her face.

“Miss Duncan,” Leekie cut in, “I assure you that Dr. Cormier is fully competent…”

“Yes, Aldous,” Duncan cut him off, with a tone that warned against further interruption, “but ‘competent’ is not what we want here.  What we require in the Duncan Research Programs is the best.”  She looked at Delphine.

“The best, Dr. Cormier.  Nothing less.”

Delphine considered her next words very carefully.

“Yes, Miss Duncan.  Is there anything I can do to further help the organization, to prove that I am the best one for this position?”

Rachel Duncan stared at her with a half-lidded, almost reptilian gaze.  Delphine felt sweat prickle up on the back of her neck.

“You can perform your job with exemplary diligence.  You can put in the extra work, dedication and innovative thinking it takes to show me you are committed to giving your all to the tasks we put before you.  Those tasks may be _varied._ ”

Delphine nodded, but Rachel Duncan wasn’t done.

“We expect you — _I_ expect you, Dr. Cormier — to comport yourself in a manner that reflects nothing but excellence and professionalism on this hospital and our programs.”

The women stared at each other for a moment, one the hawk, the other desperately trying not to be the mouse.  Leekie pulled at his tie uncomfortably.  Duncan steepled her fingers.

“That will be all, Dr. Cormier.”

From the hallway, Delphine pushed directly through the door into the side stairway, a wave of nausea overtaking her.  She bent at the waist, head down, supported by one arm stiff against the wall.  Her breaths reverberated against the cinderblock.

She hadn’t thought she could feel more alone, more precarious here than she already did.

“Delphine,” she whispered, “you were _wrong_.”


	8. Chapter 8

Wednesday I watched the riots / I seen the cops out on the street  
Watched ‘em throwin’ rocks and stuff / And chokin’ in the heat  
… So I’m watchin’ and I’m waitin’ / Hopin’ for the best  
Even think I’ll go to prayin’ / Every time I hear them sayin’  
That there’s no way to delay / That trouble comin’ every day  
  
\- Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention, “Trouble Every Day,” 1966

 

 _What time is it?_ It was 3:43 in the morning… and she had just barely been able to doze off a couple hours ago.  There was a pounding on Delphine’s door, a hissed call.

“Del _phine!”_

She sat upright.  That voice was Cosima’s.

She stumbled toward the door, disoriented, alarmed, and yanked it open.

“Cosima?”

Cosima was there, but she wasn’t alone.  Felix was slumped against her shoulder and being supported on the other side by a small young man.  She was shocked first by the blood before she could even process the fact that he was in a dress, a wig askew on his head.

“What…?” She immediately reached for them.  Cosima gave a quick nod toward her to back her away and began half-walking, half-carrying Felix in, the man — _boy?_ —  on the other side helping them in. Delphine followed, closing the door, rushing.  Cosima glanced around.

“Delphine, the tablecloth,” she urged, and Delphine grabbed it and threw it on the couch.  The helpers lowered Felix down on his back.

“ _Uh_ … Jesus _Christ_ ,” he mumbled, eyelids squeezing in pain.

“What happened?” Delphine blurted, looking for the source of the blood.  _“Mon dieu…”_

“There was a riot, a clash with the police,” Cosima replied, pulling off her jacket and tucking it under Felix’s head. 

“What? A _riot?”_ Delphine felt like she couldn’t catch up.

“Felix got some slashes from glass and hit on the head, and I think his shoulder may be dislocated.  I haven’t been able to fully look him over, but I’m scared he might have a concussion.”

 _“Merde,”_ Delphine whispered.  “Felix, can you look at me?  Look at me, I need to see your eyes.”

Felix squirmed, his baby blue dress wadding up at his hips.

“Fuck, fucking _ow,_ bollocks,” he grumbled. “Damn it, that light is _bright._ ”

Delphine glanced up at the overhead light.  It was not exactly piercing.  Her mouth set in a grim line.

“I have to fully examine him.  We need to take him to the hospital.”

“ _No_ , no _fucking_ hospital,” Felix swore.  “I will not go.  I’d sooner limp home myself.”

Delphine looked up at Cosima, angered.  Cosima held up her hands.

“I _know_ , I know, Delphine.  But he got tagged by some cops in an emergency room once.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t know where else to take him.”

Delphine ran her hands through her hair.  “Okay. I’m going to grab my medical kit.  Start getting him undressed.  Look for _anything,_ Cosima.  And be careful.”

There were tense minutes of stripping Felix’s clothes off, while he howled when his arm was touched.  The wig came off and Delphine and Cosima examined him for lacerations.  There was one on his head, one on his neck and a few small ones on one of his hands.  She cleaned the wounds with Cosima’s help, while the young man, Tony, played a special kind of nurse by holding Felix still and encouraging, “ _don’t move_ , fucker, let the ladies do their thing. If it hurts, squeeze my hand.”

Delphine glanced at Tony, slightly jarred.  His voice was high, his hands delicate.  Was this a woman?

She quickly turned back to the task at hand.

 “The cuts aren’t bad,” she told them. “The scalp wound is where most of the blood comes from.  It could use two, maybe three stitches. Felix, what day is it?”

“It’s bloody Monday… unless, wait, it must be Tuesday morning by now. And in case you’re going to ask, I know my address and I didn’t know my father, though I can tell you my first foster father’s name was Fred.  _Ouch._ ”

Delphine was probing his shoulder.  He clearly knew the routine for answering questions after a head injury, which was both reassuring and made Delphine worry how many times he’d been through this kind of situation.  She stood up.  “We’re going to have to pop the shoulder back in.  One of you please bring the water bottle in the linen closet, second drawer, and put in some water and ice.”

Tony ran to get the items.  Delphine finished probing Felix’s torso with firm, gentle fingers. 

“Alright.  Felix, this is going to hurt, but it will be over quickly.”

Cosima aided her in getting the arm in position and slowly stretching it to guide it into place. Felix hissed like an angry snake as it resettled into the socket, then quieted a bit.  Tony held the ice pack to the shoulder while Delphine took care of the scrapes and gashes. 

It took some time. Delphine repaired the injuries as best she could and gave Felix some painkillers.  The others helped clean up.  As they finished, Felix was able to close his eyes and rest.  Tony left after a whispered conversation with Cosima and a “thanks, Doc,” to Delphine.  The women were left by the apartment door, looking at each other.

“Cosima,” Delphine said, and “thank you” Cosima said at the same time, both solemn, their voices quiet.  Felix groaned softly from the couch, and Delphine took Cosima’s arm and guided her into the privacy of bathroom.

“He needs to go to a hospital,” Delphine said, frustration in her voice. “I can’t be sure his head injury isn’t serious without more tests.”

Cosima held her hands up in a placating gesture. “I get that, Delphine, and I’m going to work on him on that, but you and I both know that if he’s monitored for further problems overnight, that’s about all the hospital would do, too.  Please,” she touched Delphine’s arm, “just let him rest for a few hours.  I promise I’ll get him — I’ll get _both_ of us  — out of here.”

Delphine ran a hand through her hair.

“Cosima, what’s going on?  You say there was a riot and you bring an injured person dripping blood to my home in the middle of the night, when the hospital is only a few blocks away.”

“Delphine, I’m sorry, I _know_ ,” Cosima answered.  “I didn’t know this would happen — nobody did. I thought the Clean Sweep made people feel more effective.  But then, after I met with some kids from Vanguard in the Tenderloin, we went to Compton’s Cafeteria, where they hang out late... all kinds of people go there…”

“All kinds of people? Like a man dressed like a woman and a woman dressed like a man?”  Delphine’s tone was low but pointed.

Cosima stopped.  Her eyes narrowed.

“What happened to not being judgmental, Delphine?”

Delphine crossed her arms over her chest.

“Cosima, I _am_ … I try to be… but you must understand.  I have a job nearby I have to go to shortly, and I have a landlady—“

“And I appreciate that, but what was I supposed to do?  Some cops came in and started pushing people around, and I swear the place just _erupted_. One queen threw coffee in a cop’s face, and then all of them started grabbing cups, plates, everything, and throwing them.  They broke the windows, and as we were squeezing out we got caught between the rioters and the police.  It was all so _fast._ Delphine, I’ve worked with these people, the street kids, transsexuals, drag queens, hustlers.  I try to help them out.  But it was like they had _had_ it.  They had _enough_ of being spit on by the man because the only way they can make money is to sell their bodies.  I mean, how many straight men are going to hire queens and transsexuals? But they’ll pay them for drugs, and for sex.”

Cosima was emphatic, caught up, her hands flying all over the place.

“I mean, come _on_ , Delphine, it’s not right.  Can you imagine it?  That being the only way to support yourself?  Being told to hide who you are half the time and the other half exploit it?  And it’s not like I brought every hustler in the Meat Rack here.  It’s _Felix._ He’s like a brother to me.  He needed help, and he wouldn’t go to the hospital and, okay, Tony helped me, but…”

Cosima wound down, seeing Delphine’s hand turning white, clamped over her own mouth, her eyes filling with tears.

“Delphine?”

Delphine broke.  One giant, wracking sob came out of her, and then another.

 _“Can you imagine it,”_ echoed in her mind.  _“That being the only way to support yourself?”_

She had tried.  She had tried to be cold, be calculating.  When it had come down to it, she had known the only way to get Leekie to bring her over from France was to play the game.  Shehad tried to pretend that her respect for his work and his mind meant real attraction.  She had tried to put it away in some other place, some separate partition, to think about having the chance the to do her research, to pursue science as more than an assistant, when there were so many others vying for that kind of job.  But it came back to her now, full force.  Leekie’s voice vain, patronizing, crawling through her ears like a spider, the smell of his sweat, his weight on top of her… 

Cosima caught Delphine as she was falling down on her knees.  Her look of shock, sincere worry and caring made Delphine cry even harder, sputtering, rasping short, ineffective breaths.

“Okay,” Cosima finally said, softly.  She pulled Delphine to her, hugging her close.  Delphine cried into Cosima’s chest.

“Okay… okay,” she soothed. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.  I’m so sorry, Delphine… just try to take deep breaths.”

Delphine wasn’t sure how long they sprawled on the floor together, her hands clutching at Cosima’s shirt, Cosima stroking her hair.  They were both soaked with tears.  Delphine’s sobs began to slow, and her hands moved to Cosima’s back, holding onto her in return, the present reality of her, the goodness, the continuing pluck and positivity that made her like this, always pushing forward, believing, trying to help others.  Delphine’s sobs changed over to shuddering breaths, her face pressed into Cosima’s neck.  She inhaled and smelled only sweetness, a hint of jasmine, a slight whiff of marijuana smoke, coffee… and a tang of iron.

She pulled back, touched the collar of Cosima’s shirt where it was brown with blood.

“Cosima, are you alright? Is all this blood from Felix?

Cosima blinked at her for a beat.

“Am _I_ alright?  Delphine, you… are _you?_   You’re…”

They looked at each other, both bedraggled, and something welled up in them.  Delphine giggled first.

“I… I am a mess,” she let out, with a small laugh.  “I am a mess, and so are you.”

They both started laughing then, tears and concern turning to shining eyes, a camaraderie of the ridiculous and tragic.

Cosima reached out and put her hands on Delphine’s shoulders.

“So, are you okay?  You’re not gonna get all hysterical on me now, are you? ‘Cause I’m just kind of holding on here, myself.”

Delphine nodded, letting a few last chuckles out.  She looked down at herself, made a face, then wiped her face on a bath towel. 

“You know,” she said, steadying her breathing. “I was going to say my life has become completely crazy in the few days I’ve known you — and it’s true.  It’s just completely…” She waved her arms over her head, indicating everything around them.  “But, to tell the truth, when I see how you are, when I look at what you do… when I’m around you, I don’t care so much anymore.”

Cosima cocked her head, eyes still concerned, an uncertain smile playing around her lips.

Delphine looked down at her own hands, unconsciously clutched together.

“What I mean is, I’m sorry about the other night.  I shouldn’t have said that, about being _respectable_. I just have been worried about my job.  Everything seems to be so precarious, and I feel like I’m being watched, like they’re _monitoring_ me to see if I slip up or do something that isn’t up to their standards.”

She looked up into Cosima’s eyes.

“But I shouldn’t care about that.  I want to help people with my work in immunology, but I see you and I want to be true to myself, to be brave enough to take the consequences if it’s for something I believe in.”

It was Cosima’s turn to look down.

“Yeah, well, I’m great and all that, but I’m no saint.  I mean, you should have seen me hightailing it when things got ugly back there at Compton’s.”  She glanced up, both women smiling softly.  Cosima took a breath.

“And,” she said, looking down again, “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

The room went quiet. Delphine bit her lip.

“Cosima…”

There was a groan from the living room, followed by a thunk.

They looked at each other, then went to check.


	9. Chapter 9

I don’t know why/ But I keep thinking / Something’s bound to go wrong  
But she looks in my eyes / And makes me realize  
And she says “Don’t worry baby / Everything will turn out alright”

-       The Beach Boys, “Don’t Worry Baby,” 1964

 

Felix was sitting up on the couch, looking peeved and very worse for wear.  A spread of magazines that had been on the coffee table next to him had been knocked to the floor.

“I don’t suppose, Doctor Cormier, that you have any whiskey,” he asked.  Delphine fought a smirk.

“No Felix, no whiskey. And I’m afraid no drinking for you until I’m sure your brain isn’t damaged.”

“Well, there’s your problem, man,” Cosima interjected.  “How can you tell if it’s been damaged even _more?_ ”

Felix gave her a sneer and a roll of the eyes.

“Ha, ha. And I don’t suppose there’s anything I can wear besides my panties?”  
  
Delphine looked down.  He _was_ wearing women’s knickers.

“Oh,” she said, “I — I have a pair of dungarees, if you think they would fit.”

“You see, Felix? ‘Dunga-reeez,’” Cosima teased.  “They’re better than simple jeans, you know.”

Delphine flicked a small slap at Cosima and hit her on the arm.

“Ow!” Cosima gasped, a little more emphatically than was warranted for such a light blow.  Delphine looked at her questioningly.

“Yeah, Delphine, I may have gotten… a little knocked around, too.”

“What?” Delphine exclaimed. “What happened?  Why didn’t you tell me?  Come let me take a look at you.”

She herded Cosima back into the bathroom.

“Show me.”

Cosima sighed and carefully eased off her shirt.  There were darkening bruise marks on the back of one arm and down her shoulder, ribs and hip on that side. Scrapes, some still containing street gravel and glass and oozing blood, stood out, raw, on that shoulder, as well.

“Cosima!” Delphine gasped.

“It’s no big deal.  I got knocked down and took a nice sledding trip on the curb for a bit, but nothing serious.”

Delphine gave her an are-you-kidding-me look and pulled her medical kit back out.  She sat Cosima on the edge of the tub and began gently cleaning the wounds out.

“ _Pauvre petit chiot_ ,” she tsked. “I almost feel like hitting you again for not letting me know.”  She sucked in through her teeth as Cosima flinched with the removal of a particularly embedded pebble.

“Well, Felix was worse off than me,” Cosima shrugged, compressing her lips.

Delphine applied ointment and bandaged the scrapes.

“I’m afraid the contusions will just take time.  Does it hurt when you breathe?”

“Nah, Doc, it only hurts when I laugh,” Cosima joked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to keep these,” Felix interrupted, stepping into the room in Delphine’s jeans.  He made a little turn.  “They make my ass look fabulous.”  He looked younger with his face scrubbed, and Delphine found it endearing.

“You know, Felix, if you ever want to, uh, take surgical measures, I may be able to make inquiries to help you find someone…”

“’Surgical measures?’ he asked.  “Ohhh, wait. I don’t want to be a woman.”  He rolled his eyes.  “The queen you’re looking at isn’t butch enough for the other hustling scene, so sometimes I put on my face and give the customers what they want.  Thanks for the offer, though.  Maybe Tony might want to talk to you about that.”

He headed out of the bathroom, shooting “I’m taking all your cheese, though,” over his shoulder.

Delphine shook her head with an expression that was both fond and slightly baffled.  Felix did what he had to do, and he didn’t seem to be ashamed of it.

 _Amidst all he faces,_ she thought, _he is able to be himself, take pride in who he is._

Cosima poked her arm.

“Where did you go?”

“Oh, just thinking,” Delphine answered.  She sighed. “Listen, I’m going to have to go to work, soon.”

Cosima blanched.

“Oh, shit, right, work.  Hey, I’m so sorry, again.  I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

Delphine looked down at her earnest friend.  She softly touched her cheek.

“It’s alright, Cosima.  It’s been very… educational.”

“Ha.  Okay, then.  Let me get out of your way…”  Cosima stood up.

“Yes, I’ll need the bathroom, but you should stay here and rest, and keep an eye on Felix.  If anything goes wrong with him you can call me.  Just — try to be quiet and watch out for my landlady.”

“Ah.  You’ve got it, chief,” Cosima mock saluted, stepping to the door.  “And Delphine, I _will_ get you back someday.  If you… if you keep having problems at your job, I know people at Berkeley and Stanford I could talk to about you.”

“Cosima,” Delphine’s hand pressed to her own heart.  “Thank you.”

“Hey, I have a vested interest in keeping you in the states,” Cosima winked, grabbing the door knob.  “And, uh,” she gave Delphine a once-over, “nice nightie, by the way.”

Delphine looked down at her old nightgown, worn, damp with tears and dotted with blood.  She grabbed her towel as Cosima pulled the door closed and threw it at her, yelling “brat!” to the sound of muffled laughter.

 

* * *

 

 

Delphine couldn’t be bothered anymore.  She couldn’t be bothered to think ahead, to worry.  She squared her shoulders and did her work for the day, focusing on each patient, each decision, each treatment.  She let herself look at each person, from the very ill, to the fine and rude, to the overworked nurses and told herself _do what you can, Delphine.  This is where you are, now, and they need you._

She didn’t see Leekie all day, and that was fine with her.  She drank an extra coffee and put one foot in front of the other, and at the day’s end she realized it hadn’t been bad, and, despite being tired, she felt good about her work for that day.  She felt good not constantly telling herself that she had to get into the immunology program _now_ , it was her _only chance_ , and all she wanted.

 _I want other things,_ she realized, feeling the evening close softly around her on her way home. She looked up at her apartment from the path to her house.  It was softly lit, the curtains almost closed, and though it was quiet, she thought she could feel the presence of her friends within.

They were curled up on the couch together, Felix and Cosima, looking at magazines and making faces.  There was evidence of her cheese and bread being decimated, and two empty tea cups beside them.  They looked up as she entered.

“Heyyyy, you’re home,” Cosima smiled warmly.  “We were very quiet, inconspicuous.”

“Oh yes, just like a couple of gay little mice,” Felix cracked.

“You look better,” Delphine grinned at him.  He nodded.

“Yeah, thanks, Delphine,” he met her eyes, serious.  “You really saved my skin.”

“And how’s my other patient?” Delphine asked Cosima, who was getting up and coming over to help her out of her coat.

“Your other patient,” she answered, holding the coat as Delphine slipped her arms out, “may never play the violin again, but otherwise, she is fine, thank you.” She furrowed her brows at the back of Delphine’s neck.  “Jesus, woman, it’s hot tonight.  Do you ever sweat?”

Delphine laughed, watching Cosima as she hung up the coat.

“I love the summer,” she answered.  “I guess I can handle when things get heated better than I thought I could.” She dropped a wink.

Cosima smiled at her, but she was pulling out their things, putting her bag over her good shoulder.

“Are you leaving?” Delphine asked, surprised.

“Well, we figured it was time for these street urchins to head out and let you have some peace and quiet in your own home,” Cosima said.  “Besides, I have to get this one home before he starts raiding your closet even further.”

Felix took his things from her and turned to Delphine.  “But I _will_ be borrowing this,” he said, tugging on the collar of one of Delphine’s button-down shirts he had on.  She had to admit, it didn’t look bad on him.

“And what about those?”  Delphine pointed to the high heeled boots he was wearing.

“Please, no one will notice these.  In fact, I think stacked heels for men will be all the rage, soon.”

“Besides,” Cosima added, “we’re taking a cab.”

“Oh.”  Delphine followed them to the door. “Don’t you need help?”

Cosima reached out and lightly squeezed her shoulder.

“Delphine, you’ve done enough, more than.  Relax.  I’ve got this.”

“Oh. Well…”

Felix waved over his shoulder and went down the stairs, tossing a “goodbye” back at her.

And then they were gone.

Delphine stood for a moment, looking at the closed door, fingering her necklace.  She turned around and looked at her empty apartment.

She crossed to the table and picked up her phone.

“Yes, Operator?  I need your help...”


	10. Chapter 10

When I taste your lips / Oh, I start to shiver  
Can’t control the quivering inside  
Wouldn’t you agree / Baby, you and me  
Got a groovy kind of love

\- The Mindbenders, “Groovy Kind of Love,” 1966

 

Cosima blew a sigh of relief, finally out of her torn, dirty clothes.  She lingered in the shower, changing angles to get the spray to run gently down the tender side of her back and rubbing her sore muscles.

 _I’m getting too old for this shit,_ she smirked to herself.  _I wonder if the kids will stop talking to me when I turn thirty._

She finished her shower and pulled on her purple robe, heading into the kitchen to pull out a bottle of red wine.  There was a light knock on her door.

Cocking her head, she pulled her robe tighter and walked to the door.  One hand on the lock, she leaned close.

“Who is it?”

“Cosima?” came a soft reply in that familiar French accent.  Cosima opened the door.

“Delphine?”

Delphine was leaning on the door jamb, looking almost shy.

“I’m sorry to disturb you at home,” she said.

“Oh.  No problem.  Uh, come on in.”

Cosima held open the door and once again helped Delphine out of her coat.  She hung it and gestured to the wine bottle.

“I was just about to have a fine red, domain inexpensive, vintage whatever.  Would you like some?”

Delphine nodded.

“Yes, that would be… excellent.”

Cosima got out the wine glasses, Delphine following her, and worked on the cork.

“I’m uh, sorry about the mess.  I totally wasn’t expecting you.”  She handed a glass of wine to Delphine and took a sip of her own.  “Not that I mind, but I don’t remember giving you my address.”

Delphine looked at her.  Cosima didn’t seem upset, just curious.  Delphine took a long drink of her wine.

“Yes, well…”

“You were in the neighborhood?” Cosima smirked.  Delphine looked away.

“I wanted to talk with you.”

Cosima sighed.  She turned her eyes down and fiddled with the corkscrew.

“Delphine, I’m sorry.  I know there’s been an awful lot—“

“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss,” Delphine breathed, her eyes closed.

Cosima paused a moment, looked up.

“You mean, uh, not in a bad way?”

Delphine tried to look casual, failing miserably.

“I mean, I’m not a psychiatrist, and I never thought of being… with a woman, for me.  But I think that history and science have shown us that homosexual relations are not as unusual as society would have us think...” She looked at Cosima, feeling as though she was rambling, fumbling, just trying to be sincere, to make sense.

“That’s — oddly romantic...” Cosima answered, swallowing, “and totally encouraging.”  They looked into one another’s eyes.

Delphine reached out.  She couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stop if she tried.  Their lips met in a kiss, and she felt it go through her all the way down her body, down to the bones.  Something in her that had held her back for a long time broke, and she had to pull Cosima closer, to taste her, to breathe her in.

And Cosima bent into her, meeting her kiss, then returning it, increasingly enthusiastic.  Her robe slipped off her shoulders and Delphine was stroking her face, shoulder, back, lightly where her bruises lurked, forgotten.

Their kisses grew more urgent, deeper, tongues entangling, soft moans escaping into each others’ mouths.  It became important to be skin to skin.  Delphine raised her arms and let Cosima lift off her shirt, then gasped as the smaller woman’s fingers slid up her thigh, pushing under her skirt hem and up to her hip.  She found herself raising her leg to the touch, wrapping it around Cosima’s with the need to be closer. Cosima’s hips bucked, and she slowly bit down on Delphine’s lower lip, tugged.

They were both running their hands over each other now, writhing, caught between the urge to lie down and the desire not to pull apart enough to walk.  Cosima circled Delphine’s waist with her hands and tugged her back to the bed, never stopping kissing her.  Reaching the foot, she turned them around and leaned in, easing Delphine back, until they were lying down, their full bodies pushed together at last.

Delphine sucked in her breath and bit her lip as Cosima kissed down her neck, nipping and sucking from ear to collarbone. She felt on the edge, already every nerve firing in her body.  She had been in relationships with men, known pleasure in sex with them, even thought she was in love, but nothing had ever driven her mad the way Cosima was right now.  Just the smell of her, the softness, the sudden nip of dagger teeth that turned this small, gentle woman a little bit dangerous, was causing her whole body to vibrate, her heart to swell.  The weight of Cosima on her was _right_ , warm and lithe, and every move Delphine made, every reaction, Cosima seemed to feel it, to follow, to test and repeat what made sparks fly in Delphine’s head.

“ _Cosima,”_ she whispered.  She couldn’t wait.  Cosima looked into her eyes and understood.  Their hands quickened, fumbling to pull off Delphine’s skirt, bra, underwear, Cosima kissing her breasts, shoulders, scraping her teeth against her vulnerable, sensitive clavicle.  Delphine pushed and pulled Cosima’s robe off of her.  She looked down at their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, breast to breast.  It was nothing she would have allowed herself to imagine before, but nothing had ever looked or felt better to her in that moment.  She clutched Cosima to her, kissing and tasting her neck, one leg wrapping around her hip, one hand slipping down her spine to stroke her lower back, cup her bottom.

“Holy shit,” Cosima breathed.  She could feel the heat of Delphine’s center so close to hers, the hair on their sex rubbing together.  She leaned down and took Delphine’s nipple in her mouth, sucked it, trapped it between her teeth and using her tongue, flicked.

Delphine had started taking rapid breaths, little, high-pitched noises choking at the back of her throat.  She felt Cosima’s arm slip down between them, her hand slide down her stomach to her pubic bone, her fingers stroke her sex, sliding in incredible wetness.  Her eyes rolled back, her lids closing, and she almost felt it was too much, that any more would kill her — _la petite mort._ She sunk her teeth into her own wrist, stifling a cry.  Cosima looked at her, then gently took her hand from her mouth.

“Hey,” Cosima whispered, “hey, it’s alright.” She kissed Delphine’s wrist softly.  “Don’t hold it in.  You don’t have to be quiet.  You’re safe here, safe here with me.”

Delphine let out a shaky breath and felt her shame, her fear, her past slip away into Cosima’s dark, endless eyes.  She took Cosima’s face into her hands and nodded.

Cosima’s fingers slipped inside her, and immediately she felt like a light blazed on in her head.  A ragged moan oozed out of her and her hips were bucking, grinding, thrusting against Cosima’s fingers in an uneven rhythm.  Delphine came with a spasm that vibrated all over.  She could feel her muscles tightening against Cosima’s fingers inside her, practically _see_ Cosima even though her eyes were closed.  A long, loud cry rose out of her, till she trembled, landed back to Earth, back to the bed.

Cosima held her, still, saw her spirit settle back into place.  She kissed Delphine softly when her lover whispered her name.

_“Cosima.”_

Delphine had never felt so dazed and yet so present at the same time.  She felt as though she had let herself go, given herself away not just in body, but with her heart.  She touched Cosima’s face , stroked her lips with her thumb. She wanted to tell her, to say that some almost geological shift had permanently moved her, that Cosima had found who she truly was inside her and let her loose.

“Thank you,” she managed.  “That was…”

 _“’Was?’”_ Cosima countered, with a devilish grin.  “Oh no, _ma chérie,_ we’re just getting started.”

Delphine moaned as Cosima stroked her again, met her kiss with a hungry one of her own.  Her hands gripped at Cosima’s breasts — _mon dieu, amazing_ breasts _in her hands!_ — and Cosima groaned into her mouth, shuddered.  Delphine slid one hand down, snaking past Cosima’s and curling her fingers upward, stroking Cosima’s center.

“ _Unh_ … Del _phine,”_ Cosima gasped, then searched her face.  “You… you don’t have to…”

Delphine met Cosima’s eyes, her gaze reassuring.  Her fingers slid between the folds of Cosima’s sex, explored in a soft circle and slid inside.  Inside… she was _inside_ this perfect, singular, amazing, flawed woman, being _enveloped_ by her soft, slick heat, being trusted, and welcomed, and enjoyed… and it felt _so good_.  She looked at the beautiful woman above her — _ce femme belle à ravir —_ memorizing her face, how it was surprised, full of desire, radiating the same primal wanting and ethereal joy of suddenly being exactly who you were and where you were meant to be as Delphine felt right then.

“Cosima, don’t worry,” she told her, feeling Cosima’s fingers curl into her as hers took the first, slow stroke.  “I’m not nervous anymore.”

She raised her eyebrows as Cosima’s breath hitched.  “And, after all, I _am_ a doctor, and a scientist.  I think I can handle this.”

They would have laughed at the joke, but they had other things to do.


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

New York City, June 28th, 1969

For once in my life I have someone who needs me  
Someone I’ve needed so long  
For once, unafraid, I can go where life leads me  
And somehow know I’ll be strong  
  
\- Stevie Wonder, “For Once In My Life,” 1968

There’s something happening here  
But what it is ain’t exactly clear  
There’s a man with a gun over there  
Telling me I got to beware  
I think it’s time we stop  
Children, what’s that sound?  
Everybody look — what’s going down?

\- Buffalo Springfield, “For What It’s Worth,” 1967  


Delphine stepped through the door into their cozy apartment.  She smiled, as always, to see her love.  Cosima was on the couch, engrossed in sorting papers, a stack of pamphlets and a sack of sandwiches on the coffee table before her.

“Good evening, Doctor Niehaus,” she greeted her, dropping her keys on the side table. “I see you left work early again.  This will not look good to your boss.”

Cosima looked up at her with that irresistible warmth in her eyes.

“Good evening, Doctor Cormier.  Actually, I left on time, unlike some people who always have some meeting running over, and, lucky for me, my boss is a big, old homosexual.”

Delphine leaned down to kiss her lover, then looked at the items on the table.

“I take it we’re meant to go to Greenwich Village again, tonight.  I was hoping for a quiet night at home with you.”

Cosima straightened her stacks and stood up to wind her arms around Delphine’s waist.

“Yes, but I told Reed Erickson I’d hand out some stuff to the transsexuals, and I already made sandwiches to give out.”

Delphine put on a pout.

“Well, I suppose I’ll go with you, if that means a nice dinner and a glass of wine afterwards with my favorite girl.”

“But, of course,” Cosima allowed, “and,” she kissed Delphine’s bottom lip. “I promise I’ll be quick.  We won’t get caught in the same dirty mafia bar for hours again.”

Delphine touched Cosima’s cheek, her gaze tender.

“Thank you.  And you know I’ll always support you, even if I get a little cranky now and then.  Sometimes I just want some time with you to myself — and sometimes I’m just starving.”

“A ‘little cranky?’” Cosima chuckled, and they shared a long kiss, the kind that still sent a thrill through Delphine after three years with this feisty, brilliant and compassionate woman.  The kind that overwhelmed her with gratefulness for her good fortune at having met her, and determination to accompany her, resolute yet positive, through all the challenges of life.

 _“J’taime,”_ she murmured, meeting her lover’s eyes after the kiss.  Cosima looked at her with that expression she’d fall into forever.

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: June 28th, 1969 was the first night of the Stonewall Riots, often called “the beginning of the gay liberation movement,” which took place at the Stonewall Inn, a dingy, mafia-owned bar in Greenwich Village. Reed Erickson was a wealthy transgender philanthropist who contributed to aiding his less fortunate brothers and sisters. 
> 
> Merci mille fois for all the lovely comments and encouragement. I hope you liked this tale, and thank you for reading.


End file.
